Pernicious
by Ravenclaw1998
Summary: Renesmee Carlie Cullen is not a happy camper. She's sick and tired of being controlled by her family. But when she discovers something she CAN control, things get ugly. Can she resolve the coldness between her family and herself? And what about that intriguing boy in all her classes that seems to see right through her? Rated T for eating disorders and possible mild language.


**Author's Note: Sorry to my previous followers, but I made some BIG changes to the plot since I've been gone, just FYI. Only one chapter has been posted (It's being replaced with this one, of course, so I suppose it doesn't really matter.) But anyway, I have this habit of posting Chapter One then getting on a roll with another title. Apologies to my 2 reviewers and my lone follower.  
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**Ah, also. I am not going to use the phrase "half-vampire" that often, as I have discovered the technical term for what Renesmee is. It's "dhampir." I know, shorter. I went looking for it because my O.C.D. likes the technical terms. So, yeah.  
**

**I hope you guys enjoy! :D  
**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, through a stroke of some amazingly awful bad luck, I do _not_ own the _Twilight Saga_ or any of Stephanie Meyer's characters. I DO, however, own any characters of my own devising. If you would like to borrow one of MY CREATIONS, please ask me first. I do not mind if you steal lines/MINOR characters, so long as you give me an acknowledgement in your Author's Notes.  
**

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Chapter One: Revelations

"Nessie, get up!" Alice whined from her spot by my door. She flickered the light-switch like a madwoman, making it impossible to get accustomed to the light and fall back asleep. I groaned and slid out of bed, hating that it seemed like I was getting up on command. I hated commands; they made me feel like a dog.

"I'm up, Aunt Alice. You can stop shorting out the light fixture now." I said, walking stiffly to my bathroom. Alice walked over to my closet, probably to pick out my clothes for the day. I wish she'd give me some choice of my own for once.

Suddenly I am completely and totally frustrated at how controlled my life is. Be back inside by nightfall, when kids younger than me stayed out later. Eat this, not that. Wear this, even though you've said it a billion times that you hate the color. Let's paint your room green, even though your favorite color is purple. Let's flat-iron your hair today, conveniently forgetting the discussion we had last week about how you like your red curls. Let's slather your face in make-up, even though you hate the stuff and no boy that minds if you wear it or not is worth your time anyhow. I felt like I was living in Red China, with someone else controlling everything.

The warm water of the shower did nothing to quell this new-found revelation. Choice was a foreign word to me. For me, when someone asks me which one do you want? the one I wanted was put back five minutes ago. I was shaking with anger by the time I realized that the hot water had run out and I was being doused with an icy rain that stung my back. I bathed quickly and slid out of the shower. I saw the hated flat-iron, along with clothes Alice had laid out for me, a green blouse with a jean skirt and shiny green heels. I despise the latter two items, as well as the color theme. Who suddenly decided that my favorite shade was the same as the forest!?

In that moment, a term that I had read about before popped into my mind. _Civil disobedience._ When the government laid down a law that people found unjust, they did not protest it. They did not commit the crime and rub it in their face. They simply... refused to obey. They quietly broke the rules without hurting anybody.  
Alice could not "see" me, Dad could not "read" me, at least not anymore. No one knew how I was feeling at the moment, nor what I was going to do. It probably wasn't a big deal to a normal person, but to me, this was the rule-breaking equivalent of spitting in my family's face. Renesmee should not choose her own clothes. That would be lengthening her leash too much.

I walked out of my bathroom wearing only my underwear and a towel, then went into my huge walk-in closet. I ignored the fancy crap piled up all around me, heading to the back where I had stashed some normal clothes for activities that would get me messy, like hunting or something. I found a pair of jeans and a black tee-shirt. After putting this on, I found a pair of Converse hi-tops, black with purple laces. I then brushed the bloody-red curls that I loved so much and put them in a low ponytail.

I checked myself out in the mirror as I walked out the door. I thought I looked nice. I looked like Renesmee Carlie Cullen, not preppy little Nessie. Or the oh-so-conceited Ness. I looked like me, not my family's approximation of me.

I put my head high and walked calmly out of my bedroom. I had an entire length of hallway to reinforce my decision, and by the time I reached the stairwell, I was not backing down. If I succeeded, it would open up a whole new set of avenues for me. If this worked, I already had plans to move on to maybe repainting my room. Lavender would be nice.

"What are you wearing?!" Alice demanded. Can we say "over-dramatic?" Her tone took the spring right out of my step. My flight-or-fight instinct was kicking in. My legs ached to run back to my room and don Nessie's outfit. My chin tilted down towards the floor, my confidence crushed.

I opened my mouth to present the wonderful defense I'd cooked up on my way out here, but my mind was blank. I was suddenly fighting back tears. My teeth found my lower lip, and I bit hard enough to draw coppery blood. My own blood held no appeal to me, for obvious reasons. Think of how many starving dhampirs would drink themselves dry!

"I can go change." I mumbled, turning on my heel. My feeling of inferiority only lasted until I got back to my room. Then I was furious. How _embarrassing!_ I got shown by the people I was trying to show! How pathetic of you, Renesmee!

As though I could go to _them_ about this. They'd give me a psychiatric evaluation faster than you can say "nutso."

Oh, how I hated them. Hated them for taking my freedom, hated them for destroying me from the inside.

What can I control? Nothing. I couldn't control anything about my own life. It'd been that way for all of my fourteen years.

But...

There _was_ something I could control. Something that no one had bothered to regulate, as I hunted on my own time.

I controlled when I ate.

No, not quite. Mom or Dad reminded me to go hunting if it had been a while.

But no one ever came _with_ me. I controlled what I drank.

But more than that:

...

I controlled _if_ I drank.

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**Author's Note: So, what do you think? Does anyone see any foreshadowing going on? If so, WHAT is going to happen?**

**The first person to get it right receives a virtual hug from a literary character of YOUR CHOICE, including but not restricted to: **

**_Twilight_ (DUH.)**

_**The Hunger Games**_

**_Among the Hidden_  
**

**and last but CERTAINLY not least,**

**_Harry_ FREAKING _Potter_.**


End file.
